That’s my useful advice for the day. Moistening a bit of Kleenex to clean up, well, anything, makes good sense, unless your kleenex is anti-viral, because licking it tastes foul. It’s probably not bad for you, but still. Ick.
In other news, Tom didn’t win millions of dollars, so I still don’t have a Pony, but that’s probably OK because it’s been really cold out.
Also, on the good entertainment front, we had an overactive bout of screen watching last week that included seeing Juno on the big screen, and the recent Dr. Who episode “Blink” on the telly, among other things. Juno was excellent — good fun indie 16-year-old-pregnant-teen-angst film (a category unto itself) which you should really watch, especially if you’re Autumn, or someone like that. (Note to Mom and Dad: Do not watch this film).
The Dr. Who episode (“Blink”, if you missed it last paragraph), which Andrew turned us onto, is one of the best hours of Science Fiction (sorry Lu) out there these days. I’m sure there’s a .torrent out there somewhere you can find it on if you don’t get a version of the BBC, or if you’re impatient. Go find it now. NOW! And watch it. And don’t Blink.
Off ya go.
So Angela got me an isis puzzle for Christmas. In addition to Project Euler this is probably going to dominate any mental alertness I can spare in my dubious free time. So far, I’ve decrypted the 10 ciphers that come with the instructions, which really wasn’t that hard, and now I’m going to fiddle with it for a month or so. It’s very cool, by the way, if you have any inclination for cool puzzles you should totally pick one up.
On a separate game front, dear ole cousin Tom has apparently entered an $8,000 buy-in Poker Tournament that he won his way into. I gather the tournament is Poker Star’s 2008 PCA Tournament. Wish him luck; I’m sure he’ll buy me a cheap pony if he wins the million-or-so-dollar prize. (Tom: I want one that bites).
In additional news, the new goal of the year is to learn some lampworking and glass blowing skills. I’m sure this is the result of some strange mental affliction; it’s not like I don’t have anything to do (see paragraph 1 re: dubious free time). Still, that’s the plan, and we’ll let you know how it goes, ah, next year.
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